The wall
by Delwyn
Summary: Sam Winchester broke out. He doesn't know how or why, but he knows that he didn't deserve it. So he takes up hunting again, alone. Dean is trying to move on. Untill word reaches him that there is a hunter that is a litle too much like his brother...
1. Dark and silent barrier

Hi guys! It's been a while!

I have plenty of half finished stories waiting for me, but after that awesome finale, I just had to write this. Lyrics are from 'the wall' by Kansas.

Enjoy!

* * *

_I'm woven in a fantasy_

_Can't believe the things I see_

_The path that I have chosen now has led me to a wall._

_And with each passing day I feel a little more_

_like something dear was lost._

_Rising up before me_

_**Dark and silent barrier between…**_

The elderly priest looked up in surprise when the door of the small church creaked open. A young man walked in and carefully closed the door behind him. He was very tall and muscular, his shoulders hunched to hide some of his bulk.

The priest stood up. "Mass is over, son."

"I know," said the man hoarsely. "I just came to pray."

The priest looked at his face. It was young and handsome, but wise beyond it's years. The young man's eyes looked deeply sad and tired. The priest had seen that look before. In a veteran of some pointless war. A boy who had seem more than many an old man.

"Of course," said the priest. "Take all the time you need."

"Thank you father," the young man walked towards the front of the church and sat down in one of the pews.

The priest quietly moved around the familiar space, clearing up after mass. The young man barely moved. A few times, the priest caught him looking up at the painting if the final judgement, apparently lost in thought.

When the priest emerged from his office a few hours later, the young man was still sitting there. His head was bowed and his hands were resting loosely in his lap. He looked to be asleep, except for the slight shaking of his shoulders. The priest walked towards him and cleared his throat. "Son?"

There was no answer. The young man didn't move.

The priest kneeled down on the floor beside him and gently touched his shoulder. "Son, are you alright?"

"Yes, Father," he whispered hoarsely. There were traces of dried tears on his face.

"Is there something you want to talk about?" said the priest. "Maybe I can help."

"Have you seen evil?" whispered the young man. "True evil? I have."

The priest didn't say anything. He just stared at the young-but-old face, the tired eyes filled with grief..

"I felt it. And you know what?" He closed his eyes and hunched over a little more. "He wasn't evil at all. He was just hurt and angry. Like me." He raised his head a little, his eyes still closed. "I have done terrible things, Father," he whispered. "I deserved what I got. Why was I saved?"

The priest moved at little closer and squeezed the young man's shoulder. "What is your name son?"

"Sam." It was barely a whisper. A tear rolled down from under his dark eyelashes.

"Well, Sam. I don't know what happened to you, but I do know that there is no sin so bad that it cannot be forgiven. Anyone can be saved."

"Not me," Sam whispered.

He absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on his sleeve. A dark stain slowly seeped through the fabric.

"You're bleeding," said the priest.

He reached out to grab the young man's hand, but to his surprise Sam pulled away.

"It's nothing," he said softly. "I should go."

He straightened up and grew even paler than before. All colour drained from his face. The priest immediately put an arm around his shoulder. "Sam? Take it easy son. Just breathe for a second."

Sam drew a harsh breath, his eyes squeezed shut. The priest could feel him trembling a little. He stood up from his awkward position on the floor and sat down on the edge of the pew, pulling Sam a little closer. "Just take it easy," he whispered. Sam was trembling under his hands, shivering like he was cold to the bone.

"Do you think you can walk if I help you?"

Sam gripped the pew in front of him so tightly the priest feared the wood would splinter under his hands. "Only one way to find out," he whispered.

The priest pulled the young man's arm across his shoulders and helped him stand up. He could tell Sam was trying to take as much of his own weight as he could, but he was still heavy. The priest held him tightly as they slowly made their way through the church to the small office in the back. He could feel how thin the young man was under his many layers of clothes. He was running on fumes, weary to the bone.

The priest kicked the door to the office open with his foot and led Sam to the old sofa in the corner.

"Sit," he said sternly. "Don't move until I get back."

Sam leaned back on the creaky old sofa, the shadows under his eyes even more pronounced in the pale fluorescent light.

The priest ran to the small bathroom and returned as quickly as he could with a glass of water and a large first-aid kit. Sam was still on the sofa, his eyes closed. Blood was steadily seeping through his shirt, soaking his right sleeve from the elbow down.

The priest shook his shoulder.

"Stay awake, son. Drink this."

Sam unsteadily reached for the glass, his hand trembling uncontrollably. The priest gently supported his hand and helped him guide the glass to his mouth.

"Not too fast," he warned. "Easy does it."

The lack of response was really starting to worry him. When he was sure Sam had a tight hold o the glass, he clicked open the first-aid kit and grabbed a pair of scissors. With agile fingers, he cut through the sleeve of Sam's shirt and the blood-soaked bandages underneath.

What he saw made his hands freeze for a second. A rough and jagged cut ran all the way from Sam's wrist to his elbow. It looked like someone or something had tried to rip the skin clean off his bones.

It wasn't the torn skin that made him feel slightly nauseous. Nor the teeth marks in the crook of his elbow. It were the heavy and rough stitches holding the flesh together. If he didn't know any better he thought Sam had sewn himself back up.

"This looks bad," he said. "Maybe you should…"

"No," Sam said quietly. "I've had worse, trust me. It will be fine."

"A hospital might be a good idea, if only for a blood transfusion."

"No."

A long silence fell. The priest wrapped up the wound to the best of his abilities, but he knew the cut was probably the least of Sam's worries. His scars ran deeper than his skin. He could only wonder what had left a man so young so utterly without hope.

"Is there someone I can call for you?" he said. "Someone who can come and pick you up?"

Sam stared at the wall, a look of longing in his eyes. "No," he whispered hoarsely. "No, there is nobody." His voice broke on the last word.

"Then maybe you should stay here for a while."

He shook his head. "No. Thank you Father, but no."

"It's your choice of course, but I just don't think it you should be alone right now."

Sam smiled ruefully. "I've been alone for a long time, Father. And I intent to keep it that way."

The priest looked up at his face. "You can't mean that, son."

"Yes I do. For everybody's sake." Sam looked away. "I have done terrible things, Father. Especially to the people I love. They all think I'm dead and they are never going to find out that I'm not. No matter how much I want to, I can never go back to them."

"Like I said, there is no sin so bad that it cannot be forgiven," whispered the priest.

Sam shook his head, a stubborn expression on his face. "Not in my experience."

The priest fastened the bandage and stood up. This was an argument he wasn't going to win. Though he wanted to help the poor man, he knew it wasn't in his power to do anything. On his little sofa was a boy with a broken soul. It would take a lot more than some wise words to mend it.

"I'll get you some blankets," he said softly. "You should get some rest."

"Thank you, Father," Sam whispered.

When the priest returned to the office, the sofa was empty. The first-aid kit rested on the table, beside the empty glass. There was no sign Sam had ever been there. The priest would never see him again, but that haunted and empty look would stay with him for the rest of his life.

A few day later, many miles away, Dean Winchester's phone rang.


	2. All I am

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! You guys are awesome.

Lyrics and title are still from 'The wall' by Kansas.

Enjoy!

_**All I am,**_

_And all that I would ever want to be_

_Is just a travesty._

Dean had his arms full of groceries and his keys between his teeth when his phone rang. He muttered a curse and twisted around awkwardly to shove the front door open. He quickly crossed the hall to the kitchen and dumped his groceries on the table. He pulled out his cell without bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Yeah?"

A brief pause on the other end. "Dean?" said a familiar voice.

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Bobby? Is that you?"

"Yeah. It's… It's good to hear your voice, Dean."

Dean smiled faintly. "Yeah, you too."

"Hey, listen," Bobby cleared his throat. "I… ah… There is something I think you should know."

Dean started unpacking the groceries with his free hand. "Well, shoot."

"I got word that there is a new player in town. Showed up a few weeks after…"

He took a deep breath. Dean clutched his phone tightly. He knew exactly what Bobby was talking about. It was a day that he'd rather not remember.

"Anyway, this guy shows up and goes on a hunting spree. He hunts everything. Always works alone, doesn't talk to anyone. He never stops, never slows down."

Dean put a carton of milk in the fridge and turned back to the groceries on the table.

"No offence Bobby, but what does this have to do with me?"

"Just hear me out. Last week I had a hunt in Nevada, vampire's nest by the looks of it. But someone got there before me. The nest was cleaned out. Must have been thirty or forty vamps, it was huge."

"And you think it was this guy?"

Bobby cleared his throat. "I'm pretty sure. I made a few phone calls. As far as I can tell there was nobody else in the area. I got curious, so I decided to ask around a little."

Dean sat down on the edge of the table. "You know curiosity killed the cat, right?"

"I ran into a priest from the local church. He told me that the day before some guy came into his church to pray, looking like he was about to pass out. The priest sees that his arm is bleeding and offers to patch him up." Bobby cleared his throat. "According to the priest, his arm looked like someone had been chewing on it and the guy had sewn it back together himself."

"Sounds like a hunter," muttered Dean. "Bobby, why are you telling me all this?"

Bobby cleared his throat again, sounding nervous. "I asked the priest what the guy looked like. He… ah… apparently he was very tall, with longish dark hair, going by the name of Sam."

Something clattered to the ground with an incredibly loud noise. Dean didn't even notice what it was. He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, breathing hard.

"Dean? You still there?"

"Yeah… yeah. Bobby…What the… I…"

"Calm down, boy. We don't know if it's him. It seems pretty damn impossible."

"Cas came back." Dean took a deep breath. "You think… Sam…"

"The way the priest described him and the things he said…" Bobby took a deep breath. "It sounded an awful lot like Sam."

"I'm gonna find him," said Dean firmly. "Are you still in Nevada?"

"I found a case a few towns over he might be interested in. I'm on my way there now."

"Good, I'll go talk to that priest and then I'll join you. Where are you exactly?"

Five minutes later he was on the road, a hasty note for Lisa beside the abandoned groceries on the kitchen table.

The small church looked calm and peaceful. Dean took a deep breath and stepped out of his car. It was exactly the kind of place Sam would go to. A place where he could find a little peace.

Somehow, he felt reluctant and eager at the same time. For the first time in four months, he had a little sparkle of hope. He wanted to be sure. But the possibility that it wasn't true… Hearing that it was someone else instead of his little brother… That would break him all over again.

He slowly crossed the street and pushed the heavy door open. The church was cool and quiet. And elderly priest walked towards him from the back, a slightly curious look on his face. "What can I do for you, son?"

"I… ah… I'm looking for someone," said Dean hesitantly. "My brother. I think he might have been here."

The priest gave him a long look. "I think I know who you are talking about," he said softly. "Come with me."

The priest led the way to a small office in the back. It was bare and simple, with nothing more than a writing desk and an old sofa. "Take a seat," said the priest. "Do you have a picture of you brother?"

Dean sat down on the sofa and pulled out his wallet. Bobby had taken a picture of them without either of them knowing, the day before the big fight. They were both sitting on the hood of the Impala, a beer in hand. For the last time. Dean never went anywhere without it.

The priest took the photograph and studied it carefully. Dean shifted restlessly on the sofa. He could feel his hands were shaking.

Finally, he priest nodded. "Yes, that's him."

Dean drew a shaky breath. "Thank God."

The priest looked at him. "He said his family thought he was dead."

Dean nodded, blinking back his tears. "Yes," he said hoarsely. "I… ah… what else did he say?"

"Not all that much to be honest. He came in here just after mass and said he wanted to pray. He sat there for hours. He looked so devastated."

The priest looked down. "He told me that he had seen true evil. He wanted to know why he had been saved. Does this mean anything to you?"

Dean nodded faintly. He didn't trust himself to speak.

"He was hurt. His arm was cut up pretty badly. I suggested that he should go to a hospital, but he refused. He said there was nobody he could go to. That he had been alone for a long time and that he wanted to keep it that way." The priest looked up. "He was running on fumes. I offered him a place to sleep, but he left."

Dean swallowed heavily. "Do you… know where he went?"

The priest shook his head. "He just took off. I didn't even see him leave." The priest took a deep breath. "Son, you have to find him. He was in a bad place, I hate to think of what he could do."

Dean looked away. "Padre, I… I don't know if… if he wants me to find him. He…" his voice broke.

"Son, he needs you. More than anything, he needs to be with someone. If you don't find him…"

He didn't finish his sentence. He didn't have to.

Dean stood up. "I'll find him," he said firmly, his voice still shaking a little.

The priest nodded. "Good luck son. I don't know what happened to your brother, but I hope you can get through to him."

Dean whispered a goodbye and hurried out of the church. He practically ran across the street towards the Impala that was gleaming in the sunlight.

_I'__m coming, Sammy._

Little did he know that Sam was only thirty miles away, pretending very hard that he didn't want to call his brother.


	3. To pass beyond

Wow… the sheer amount of reviews and alerts left me a little speechless. And take it from me, that doesn't happen all that often. Thank you so much!

As always, enjoy!

_Towering_

_Marking off the __boundaries_

_My spirit would erase__. _

_**To pass beyond is what I seek**_

_I fear that I may be too weak._

_For those are few that see it through,_

_To glimpse the other side_

"He was here."

Dean clutched his phone tightly. "What do you mean _was?_"

"There's an open grave on the cemetery. He finished the hunt."

"_What?"_

"I know. He got here the day before yesterday as far as I can tell. Several people have seen him. He works fast."

"Damn fast."

A pause on the other end. "You're absolutely sure it's him?" Bobby asked cautiously.

"The priest recognized him from a photograph," said Dean. "Bobby, we have to find him."

"Don't you think I know that?"

Dean shook his head impatiently. "You don't understand. The priest told me some of the things he said. Sam is desperate, Bobby. If he goes on like this much longer…"

A silence fell on the other end. Bobby cleared his throat. "I… I didn't find a motel he stayed in. Looks like he slept in his car."

"If he slept at all," muttered Dean. "Can you check out the church?"

"Why the church?"

"The priest said he came to pray. He's looking for some kind of peace."

Dean swallowed. It hurt to think that Sam had been alone for so long, trying to come to terms with whatever Lucifer had made him do.

"Okay, I'll wait for you there," said Bobby on the other end.

Dean snapped his phone shut and threw it on the seat beside him. Sam was a fool. A stupid, lonely, desperate fool. Why on earth had he gone off alone like that? What on earth was he running from?

* * *

Sam was curled up in the backseat of his car, trying to get some sleep. He knew perfectly well that it wasn't safe to drive when he was this tired. Hell, he had found out the hard way a few weeks ago. Still, sleep wasn't all that appealing. Because at night _he _came. In his sleep he was never alone. Lucifer's was always whispering in his ear. The devil showed him things. Visions of that endless void beneath the earth. Made him feel Dean's bones breaking under his hands.

_Dean…_

Sam had only been to Lisa's house once, and that was only because whatever pulled him out of the pit dropped him right there under the streetlight. Dean had looked so happy. So normal. He deserved it, after all those years, after hell. Sam had just stood there for a long time. Then, he had turned around and walked away. Since that day, he had been hunting. He had no idea what year it was, how long he had been in the pit. All he knew was that he had a lot to make up for. Too much. So he killed every damn thing he could find.

But he would never be rid of Lucifer's voice in his ear. Even with the devil back in the cage, he was never truly gone. He was always whispering, attached to Sam's soul like a leach. Always whispering. Telling him to do horrible things. Some nights he ended up sobbing and scratching at his ears, begging him to stop. And sometimes, just sometimes, he wanted to give in. Just to silence him.

And that was just screwed up in so many ways.

He closed his eyes and slowly drifted into a haunted dream, where Dean was running and someone was laughing. Howling with laughter.

Sam startled awake when a car rumbled past. The sound was incredibly familiar. For a second he thought it was a part of his dream. But the sound was real. It faded slowly as the car turned a corner.

_Dean._

* * *

Bobby was waiting outside the small church, looking like he always did. A little scruffy, with grease under his fingernails and his eyes in the shadow of his cap. When he saw Dean, he stood up from the hood of his car. Dean cleared his throat. "Hey Bobby. He… he wasn't in the church?"

Bobby shook his head. "No… no he wasn't. It's… It's good to see you, boy."

Dean smiled faintly. "Dude, it was suburbia, not hell."

"To me that would be the same thing." Bobby looked at him intently. "What did you tell your girl?"

"Nothing," muttered Dean. "She wasn't home when you called. I left her a note." He looked away. "I should probably call her."

"What are you gonna say? That you are looking for your dead brother?"

"I don't know yet," whispered Dean. "I don't want her involved in all this. But I don't think I can lie to her either."

A long silence fell. Dean sat down on the hood of Bobby's car. Bobby handed him a beer from the cooler in the backseat and sat down beside him.

"So," he said finally. "What do we do now?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't know. Sam can't be too far, but there is no telling in what direction he is headed."

"I've made a couple of calls while I was waiting for you. I found quite a few cases that have Sam's signature al over. He is just driving up and down the country, hunting anything that comes his way. There is no pattern to it. He could be going anywhere."

"Then we find us a stack of newspapers and figure out what he is going to hunt next," said Dean. "He's going to get himself killed if he goes on like this."

Bobby looked at the ground. "And if we find him?" he said softly. "Then what are you gonna do?"

"_When_ I find him, I'm gonna kick his ass for not telling me he's alive, and then I'm gonna patch him up and we'll figure out the rest." Dean took a swig of his beer and stared into the distance. They could figure it all out, as soon as Sam was safe. He just needed to find his brother and keep him alive. Anything else he could deal with.

* * *

Sam looked at the small church from the shadows of a small alley. The Impala and Bobby's old Chevelle were parked side by side. Bobby and dean were sitting on the hood of the Chevelle, their backs to him. He was close enough to hear their voices, but he couldn't make out the words.

_Dean._

Dean was actually within shouting distance. Almost close enough to touch. To grab on to and never let go. But somewhere in the back of his head, he knew that it wasn't real. That it was just a part of his dream. That it wouldn't last much longer. He wanted to force himself to wake up. Before the voice would destroy it all again. But the voice was silent. And the image stayed.

Carefully, he shuffled a little closer to hear what they were saying. He was so focused on every little sound that he nearly jumped out of his skin when Dean's phone rang.

Dean startled a little too, and he looked worried when he answered.

"Lisa?"

Sam was close enough to hear every word now. He pressed his back against the wall and melted into the shadow, listening intently.

"Yes, I know… I'm sorry. It's an emergency… Yes that kind of emergency… I really can't tell you, Lisa. Not until I know a little more… No… No, don't worry, it's not like that… I… I really don't know… I'm sorry…"

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Dean was here. And he sounded real. Looked real. He wanted nothing more than to step out of the shadows and call out his brother's name. But still… Dean had Lisa. Dean had Ben. He was happy. Sam had seen it himself, through the window on that fateful night something had decided to drag him out of the pit. But if he was happy, then why was here? Why was he drinking beer with Bobby instead of eating apple pie with his new family? It made no sense.

"What did she say?" asked Bobby softly.

Sam could only see the back of Dean's head, but he could imagine the expression on his face. "She… asked me if I was coming back. I said I didn't know yet." Dean raised his head a little. "If I find him, I'm not going back to her."

Sam felt his shoulders tense. Find who? Instinctively, he knew who Dean was talking about. But it couldn't be true. Sam Winchester was dead. In every sense of the word.

But Dean was there. He was right there, and that couldn't be a coincidence. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Sam felt something flare up inside. Something that kept the voice at bay. It took him a while to realize what it was, but afterwards he could name it perfectly.

_Hope._

He took a deep breath and stepped from the shadow into the blazing sunshine.


	4. The symbol and the sum of all that's me

Okay, forget momentarily speechless, I am officially stunned. I have never been so happy to see my inbox clogged up. Thank you all so much for all those sweet words!

So here is the next chapter,

Enjoy!

_The moment is a masterpiece_

_The weight of indecisions in the air_

_Standing there_

_**The symbol and the sum of all that's me.**_

The light was bright. It had been a long time since he had been out in the open in broad daylight. He preferred to work at night and hole up somewhere during the day. For cover, for safety. But also because sleeping in the dark was a hundred times more terrifying than sleeping during the day.

Sam knew he looked like death warmed over. Literally. It had been a long time since he had slept properly. He hadn't bothered to change the bandage around his arm and his sleeve was soaked with blood again. Somewhere in the back of his exhausted brain he was starting to feel the dizzying effects of blood loss. But he couldn't be bothered. Because right there in front of him was Dean. Sam slowly crossed the street, still wondering if he was doing the right thing.

But Dean was _there_.

So close.

And for the first time since he came back, Sam decided it was time to do something incredibly selfish. Because no matter how much he wanted to keep Dean safe and normal and _happy_, right now Sam just really needed his brother. He took a deep breath.

"Dean!"

* * *

Dean could feel someone staring at him. It was ridiculous and he knew it. But still, someone was looking at him, he was sure of it. He casually leaned back a little, stretching his neck like it was sore. In the mean time, he studied every inch of the little church square in from of him. There was nothing out of the ordinary. He was just starting to turn around when he heard it. A voice. It was soft and hoarse like it hadn't been used in a while and Dean couldn't pretend it didn't tremble a little. But still, he would have recognized that voice anywhere. His little brother, calling out his name.

He jumped up from the hood so fast he stumbled a little. "Sam!" He didn't hear Bobby talking beside him. He barely noticed his beer bottle clattering to the ground.

He could see the tall silhouette on the sidewalk flinch at the sound of his voice. The sun was shining in his eyes, so all he could see was a dark shadow, but it didn't matter. He knew who that was with every fiber of his being. Before he realized what he was doing, he was making his way around the car. Sam tensed up, looking like he wanted to run. Like he wasn't sure what Dean was going to do.

"Sammy?" Dean said softly. Sam made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, but he didn't say anything. Dean knew he should probably be suspicious. That he should bring out the silver and the holy water. But he didn't care. He just threw his arms around his brother and held on for dear life.

* * *

Sam heard the beer bottle hit the ground. Dean jumped up like he had been stung.

"Sam!" His voice sounded harsh and emotional. Sam felt his body flinch at the sound, thought he didn't really know why.

Bobby said something, but Sam didn't listen. Dean was looking at him with a strange expression on his face. With slow and deliberate steps, he came closer. Sam felt all his muscles tense.  
For a second, he didn't see Dean anymore. The familiar face distorted into a vague memory of what it was supposed to look like. And a vague memory of something else. Something without a face. Every ounce of instinct told him to run. As fast and as far as he could.

"Sammy?"

_Sammy._

And in one moment, in that one word, the illusion was gone. Sam took a shaky breath and tried to blink away his tears. It was real. It was all real.

And when Dean threw his arms around him, all he could do was stand there and try not to break into a million little pieces.

* * *

"Sammy, are you okay?" Dean asked softly. There was no answer. Sam just leaned into his embrace, trembling a little under his hands.

"Sam?"

Still no answer. Reluctantly, Dean pulled away to look at his brother's face. Sam kept his eyes fixed on the ground, his arms slack by his side.

Out of nowhere, Bobby appeared beside him. "Dean!" he whispered urgently.

Dean ignored him. He kept his eyes on Sam.

"Talk to me, Sam. What happened to you?"

Sam still didn't say anything. He was shaking harder now, still keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the pavement beneath his feet. He looked pale in the afternoon sun, like he hadn't been outside in weeks.

"Dean!" said Bobby sharply, "We have to be careful. He…"

At that moment, Sam's knees buckled. Dean tightened his grip and gently lowered him to the pavement. "Whoa, easy Sammy."

Sam slowly raised his hands to clutch at his brother's jacket. "It's real," he muttered. He looked up at Dean's face. "You're real."

"I could say the same thing about you," said Dean softly. "What… where have you been all this time?"

But Sam didn't answer. He just kept staring at Dean like he could vanish any second.

"Dean, he's bleeding," muttered Bobby somewhere nearby.

"Shit," muttered Dean. "Can you help me get him up?"

Between the two of them, they managed to haul Sam to his feet. He was a lot lighter than Dean remembered, his shirt hanging loosely around his shoulders. As he hauled his little brother back to the Impala, he let his instinct take over. Get Sam to a motel, patch him up, make sure he is safe. That was, after all, what he had been doing for most of his life. But this time was different. This time there was so much more going on than just what he could see on the surface. The haunted look in his brother's eyes scared the hell out of him.

* * *

"What did you do, staple it back together? It looks horrible."

"Is not exactly easy to stitch with your left hand," said Sam defensively.

Dean looked up from his work. "Then why the hell didn't you get it checked out?"

"No time," muttered Sam.

Dean gave him a long look. Sam quickly looked away, fumbling with the bedspread.

"So," said Dean firmly as he turned back to bandaging Sam's arm. "You wanna tell me how you managed to crawl out of that hole in the ground?"

"I don't know," whispered Sam. "One moment I was... in there… and…" he broke off.

Dean carefully fastened the bandage without looking up. "So you remember what… what it was like down there?"

"Yeah," whispered Sam. "I was… it…" He shook his head, still looking at the bedspread. "I can't really describe it, Dean. He… I was locked in with him… and…" He broke off again, blinking furiously.

"It's okay, Sammy," said Dean quietly. "Take your time, you don't have to tell me right now."

In truth, he really wanted to know what had happened. If only to find a way to help his brother. If only to share a little of whatever it was that was weighing him down. But Sam wasn't really up to anything right now. His hands were still trembling, and in the harsh lights of the cheap motel room his face looked deathly pale and hollow. Dean was almost afraid to touch him.

He cleared his throat. "So… ah… I know Bobby is itching to pour you full of holy water, but… I want to ask you first. Are you still you?"

A long silence fell. "I don't know," whispered Sam finally. "I really don't know." He looked up and met Dean's eyes, _really_ met his eyes for the first time. "I can hear him. Lucifer." He looked away again, tears shining in his eyes. "He talks to me. He's bound to me, Dean. And I don't know what to do."

* * *

I planned to have this up sooner, but the internet blew up in my face… not fun.


	5. Blocking all the light and blinding me

I am running out of words to thank you all. You are all amazing!

This chapter was really hard to write. I hope I managed to work out all the kinks.

Enjoy!

_Towering_

**_Blocking all the light and blinding me._**

_I want to see_

"How's he doing?" whispered Bobby.

Dean scrubbed his hand over his face. "He's asleep, finally. You find anything?"

Bobby shook his head. "The cemetery in Lawrence has been quiet. No omens, demonic or biblical as far as I can tell. He doesn't know what got him out?"

Dean shook his head. He took a deep breath. "Bobby, he… he told me something. He said that he could still hear Lucifer in his head. That the Devil was still bound to him. Do you think that's possible?"

Bobby looked at the sleeping figure on the bed. Sam was wrapped in al the blankets Dean could find in the cheap motel room, but he was still trembling, even in his sleep. He was curled up on his side, barely taking up half the bed. And that was quite an achievement for someone so tall.

"I don't know," said Bobby hoarsely. "There isn't exactly a lot of lore about angelic vessels." He looked back at Dean. "You said he could remember what it was like in Lucifer's box?"

"Yeah," muttered Dean. "He couldn't really talk about it. It must have been horrible."

Bobby cleared his throat. "Have… have you considered that the voice he hears could be just in his head?"

Dean gave him a sharp look. "Are you saying my brother is crazy?"

"Of course not!" said Bobby indignantly. "He's traumatised, that's what he is. Do you remember what you were like when you came back from the pit?"

"A little hard to forget," muttered Dean.

And it was. When the memories of hell came flooding back, it had nearly torn him apart. Every second his mind wasn't occupied, his thoughts flashed back to that horrible place. And sometimes, especially in his dreams, it all seemed so real.

Seemed. That was the word. In the light of day, it was easier to distinguish between reality and memory. But for Sam it was different.

"It's not the same thing." Dean looked at his sleeping brother again. "He says Lucifer is talking to him. We know he's not possessed. We have done everything possible to make sure he really is Sam, but there is no telling if there is a piece of Lucifer left inside his head."

"I hate to say this," said Bobby softly, "but what if Sam is hearing things? Who knows what the devil has done to him in that cage."

Dean shook his head. "Sam knows what it's like to have an angel inside his head. If he says that Lucifer is still with him, I believe him."

"Believing him is one thing," said Bobby. "What the hell are we going to do about it?"

"I have no idea," said Dean. "There is no sure way of getting rid of an angel without killing the vessel as far as I know."

"What about Castiel? You think he can help?"

Dean took a deep breath. "He probably could, but I think heaven is outside his covert zone."

"We could try summoning him," suggested Bobby. "Like we did the first time."

"I don't even know if he still has a vessel," said Dean. "It could take him a while to get back to earth."

"We should try it anyway," said Bobby. He looked at Sam again. "Maybe he is the one that busted Sam out."

"Maybe it was Cas, maybe it was God, I don't really care," said Dean. Though he would never say it out loud, they would both be getting a prayer tonight. "I just hope he can help Sam."

"We don't have many other options." Bobby stood up. "I'm going home, get all the stuff together for the sumoning ritual and see if I can find something more on all this. You can follow me as soon as Sam is up to it, crash at my place for a while." He slapped Dean on his shoulder. "We'll figure this out, Dean."

"I hope so," whispered Dean, his eyes fixed on his sleeping brother.

* * *

Darkness.

It was pitch-black all around. No light, no noise, nothing. Just empty black silence. And Sam was running. Faster than he ever had before. Because there was something. Something in the dark. Something that terrified him more than any monster he had ever faced in his life.

"You know you can't run from me."

He ignored the voice and kept going. He could be running in circles for all he knew, but he kept running. Simply because there was nothing else he could do.

"How long are you gonna keep this up? Mmm? No matter where you go, I'll be here." "Shut the hell up!"' Sam didn't know where he found the breath to shout. He was panting hard, gasping for air.

"You know, I'm offended. You know as much as I do that it makes no sense to keep me locked away like this. Like I told you once before, we are two parts of one whole. I am a part of you now, Sam. So no matter where you run, I'll be there."

And without warning, a familiar form appeared in the darkness before him. Sam stopped abruptly and stumbled a little.  
The face was the same. It smiled at him with that sickly sweet expression that made him resent looking in the mirror. Because the face was always the same. It was his own.

"I know how hard it is for you to keep me in here. Why do you put yourself through all that pain?"

Sam didn't answer. They had had this discussion before. Lucifer already knew what he was going to say.

"It's not like I'm gonna go global, you know. I'm not strong enough for that anymore, thanks to you and that brother of yours. All I want is a little payback on everyone who ruined my plan." Lucifer's eyes turned cold and hard as steel. "And I'm afraid that includes you, Sam."

And before Sam could do anything, Lucifer raised his fist and pounded it into his face.

* * *

Dean leaned back in his chair and picked up his third cup of coffee. Four months of living with Lisa had taught him that four in the afternoon wasn't generally considered the time to drink whiskey. But if Sam kept scaring him like that, he might just take up the habit again. Sam was still asleep. Dean was a little surprised that he was so still. He had expected nightmares, tossing and turning. But Sam hadn't moved at all.

The curtains were drawn and the room was almost dark. Still, Dean couldn't help but notice that Sam was still shaking. His shoulders were tense, head buried in the pillow. Dean put his coffee back on the table and stood up. Quietly, he made his way over to the bed.

Sam was still asleep, but it wasn't exactly restful. He clutched the bedspread so hard his knuckles were white. He was breathing shallow and there were tears leaking from his eyes.

Dean sat down on the bed beside him. "Sam?"

There was no response. If anything, Sam curled up a little tighter.

"Sam, wake up." Dean reached out and gently touched his brother's shoulder.

Sam jerked awake and flinched away from him.

"Easy, Sam. It's just me," muttered Dean. It was just to say something really, because he was quite sure that Sam wasn't really listening. He was blinking furiously, trying to clear his vision.

"Dean," he whispered.

Dean just sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do. Sam rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and carefully avoiding his brother's eyes.

"He was there," he said hoarsely. "In my dream."

"I figured as much," said Dean.

"He's always there," whispered Sam. "He keeps telling me to stop fighting him."

Dean wrinkled his forehead. "What… are you _still_ fighting him?"

Sam nodded at the ceiling. "He's not as strong as he used to be. But he keeps talking to me, trying to make me give up and let him have his revenge." He closed his eyes. "Sometimes I'm tired of fighting him, Dean."

"I know Sammy," whispered Dean. "But you have to hold on a little longer."

"I know," said Sam. "I can't let him go, because the first one he is going to kill is you, and the last one is me."


	6. Lost in the haze

Once again, thank you for all the reviews! You guys are awesome.

Sorry if the grammar is a little odd here and there. I kept mixing up French and English and that makes for some very silly sentences…

Enjoy!

_Look in the mirror and tell me_

_Just what you see_

_What have the years of your life_

_Taught you to be_

_Innocence dying in so many ways_

_Things that you dream of are lost_

_**Lost in the haze**_

Sam didn't get all that much sleep for the rest of the day. Twice, he dozed off and woke up shivering with vague memories of haunted dreams. Dean was always there, looking worried.

"You need to sleep, dude. You can't go on like this," he said softly.

"I know," whispered Sam. "But it gets worse when I sleep."

His brother gave him a long look. "Come on," he said finally. "Let's go out for coffee. You look like you need it."

"Understatement," muttered Sam under his breath. He had been living on coffee for months. Strong and black, exactly the way he didn't like it. But he needed it to stay awake and functioning. In the first weeks whiskey was the way to go, but he had quickly found out that it only made him drowsy. And if he passed out drunk, it was nearly impossible to wake up from his dreams. After a few haunted nights and brain shattering hangovers, he swore never to drink again. And somehow, that had pissed Lucifer off.

Lucifer wanted him weak, wanted him to slip up. Sam had to be on his guard every second of the day. Because he could feel the devil scratching away, like he himself had done once. Poking and prodding and pounding on the barriers that kept him locked up. Even now, as he followed Dean out of the motel room, he could feel the familiar pressure in his head. He shivered a little. The memory of being locked away inside his own head was still fresh and raw. Watching his own hands doing horrible things. No hope of freeing himself. It was the most frightening thing he had ever felt. And when his own hands pounded into his brother's face, he had stopped fighting and started screaming. Because he could feel every punch vibrating through his arms. Dean's bones breaking under his knuckles.

_Sammy? It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going to leave you._

Sam shivered again. He could remember every detail of that day. Dean, with his face beaten to a pulp. Dean, looking like every bone in his face was broken. And those words were sometimes the only thing that kept him fighting. Because it was Dean who had pulled him back from that edge. And if Lucifer ever managed to break out, Dean would be the first one to die. And Sam couldn't let that happen.

Dean looked at his brother from the other side of the table. Sam was staring into space, absentmindedly playing with his empty cup. Sam needed safety and sleep, in that order. But he probably wasn't going to get either. He had barely slept for two hours straight when his dreams started chasing him again. Eventually, he had just given up. Dean could still see him sitting on the bed with a blanket around his shoulders, staring at the blank wall in front of him. Somehow, he got the feeling that Sam spent quite a few nights like that.

Dean cleared his throat. "Sam?"

Sam blinked and focused on his brother's face. "Mmm?"

"How long have you… how long ago did you come back?" asked Dean quietly.

Sam looked down into his empty cup. "I don't really know. A few months?" He looked up again, his eyes tired but more awake than they had been all day. "How long was I in there, Dean?"

"It's been four months since…" Dean's voice trailed of. Four months and three days to be exact. And he felt every single one of them weighing on his mind.

"So I wasn't in there very long," whispered Sam.

"A few weeks at most," said Dean softly.

Sam looked away again. "It seemed longer."

"I know Sammy. Trust me, I know."

For a while, they just sat together in silence. Probably the only two people in the word who knew what heaven and hell were like. The only two people who had seen both and lived to tell the tale. They had walked the roads of heaven together. They had both thrown themselves in the pit for the other. And now they were sharing a table in a small diner, awkwardly trying to be normal again. As normal as they were ever going to be. Dean tapped his fingers on the table. "Sammy? Why didn't you come to me when you got out?"

Sam smiled sadly, still keeping his eyes fixed on the dirty little table. "I saw you, Dean," he said softly. "At Lisa's house, I saw you."

"You did? And you didn't think to stop by?" Dean fought to keep his voice neutral. The fact that Sam had been so close made him more angry than he had expected. The fact that his brother hadn't even bothered to tell him he was still alive was infuriating.

"I wanted to," admitted Sam. "I really did, but I couldn't." He looked up, his eyes suddenly sharp. "I wasn't supposed to be alive, Dean. I could feel the Devil clawing away inside my head. And I saw you at the table with Ben and Lisa. You were happy. I couldn't just walk in and dump all that crap on you again."

"But what about you?" said Dean sharply. "You know I would have helped you. Why did you try to carry all this alone?" He took a deep breath. "You saved the world, Sammy. And now look at you."

Sam smiled faintly. "I didn't save the world, Dean. You did. If you hadn't been there…"

"Well, call it a team effort," said Dean. "That's what we are, Sam. You are my family, not Lisa. You should have come to me."

Sam tiredly closed his eyes. "I know," he whispered.

"Well, I'm here now," said Dean. "And we'll find a way out of this, Sam."

"I don't know if we can, Dean. It's not like we have an exorcism lying around to get rid of an angel."

Dean leaned forward a little. "I know that, Sam. But Bobby's working on it. We're going to summon Cas, see if he…"

"Cas?" Sam looked up. "I though he… blew up."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You didn't know? God brought him back and he went back to heaven to play sheriff." He gave his brother a sharp look. "How come you didn't freak out when you saw Bobby?"

Sam looked away again. "I knew he was alive," he said softly. "I ran into him on a hunt a few weeks back. He nearly saw me."

"And you didn't wonder how come he crawled back into his meat suit?"

"Of course I did," muttered Sam. "But… I couldn't go to him. He would have called you, and I didn't…"

"You didn't want to ruin my apple-pie life, I know." Dean shook his head. "You know what, Sam? When I was fifteen or so, I always imagined us hunting together. Just the two of us. Just driving around, hustling pool, killing zombies and all that stuff. But when that finally happened, Jess had just died and Dad was gone and… and it just kept getting worse. And sometimes I wondered what it would be like to just hunt. Without all that crap, you know?" he smiled faintly. "That's the kind of normal I wanted, Sam. Not life in suburbia."

Sam looked up in surprise. "Do you mean that?"

"Of course. It was nice with Lisa, and she helped me a lot, but it just wasn't my life." Dean grinned at the stunned expression on his brother's face. "Come on, can you imagine me in a minivan? Please tell me you can't."

"I don't know, Dean," said Sam with a grin. "I think you look good as a soccer mom."

"Oh, shut up," Dean gave his brother an annoyed look, but he could barely hide his relief. It was good to see Sam smile again.

Dean shifted a little behind the wheel of his car. It was good to be on the road again. What he had missed the most was the driving. The trembling of the steering wheel under his hands, the rumbling roar of the engine. The long hours behind the wheel always made him relax. He looked at the passenger seat. Apparently, Sam felt the same way. As soon as they had left Nowhereville Nevada, Sam had fallen asleep with his head resting against the window. And he was still asleep, nearly four hours later. He had barely moved at all. Dean looked ahead again and smiled. If Sam could only rest for a while…

Of course, Dean had seen his brother function on little or no sleep plenty of times. But this time it had been months. Months of horrible nightmares and sleepless nights. Not even Sam could keep that up.

His smile disappeared. Fighting the Devil every second of the day probably didn't help things either. Sam had told him what it was like. Lucifer would attack him when his mind was at it's weakest. When he was asleep or hurt. And nothing Sam did could make him go away. Dean clutched the steering wheel a little more tightly. This had to stop. And he would find a way to help his brother. There was no other option.

Sam made a faint noise beside him. Dean turned his head to look at him.

What he saw made him slam the breaks so hard he nearly lost control of the car.

* * *

Sorry…  
It's 2.30 AM now, I'm going to get some much needed sleep. I'll have the next chapter ready tomorrow, I promise!


	7. Outside your door He is waiting

I borrowed this little idea from sweetysmart0505. Not exactly the way she suggested it, hope she doesn't mind. I forgot to mention it in the last chapter, but the song I'm using now is 'Hold on' by Kansas.

Once again, thank you all for reading and reviewing! You make me feel all tingly inside.

As always, enjoy!

* * *

**_Outside your door He is waiting_**

_Waiting for you_

_Sooner or later you know_

_He's got to get through_

_No hesitation and no holding back_

_Let it all go and you'll know_

"Sam!" Dean grabbed his brother's shoulder and shook him roughly. The response was not exactly what he had expected. Sam threw himself forward and punched him in the jaw. Hard.

Dean swore and grabbed his brother's arm. "Sam! Calm down, it's me."

Sam didn't really seem to hear him. His eyes were unfocussed, still looking half asleep. With surprising strength, he pulled away and raised his fist again.

"Sam no! Wake up, man." Dean ducked under Sam's fist and grabbed his brother's shoulders. "Come on, Sam!"

Sam blinked vaguely. "Dean?"

"Who else?" Dean hesitated for a second. "You're not gonna hit me again, are you?"

"Did I hit you?" Sam looked around vaguely. "What happened?"

"You tell me," Dean carefully released his brother. "One minute you are fast asleep, and the next you're bleeding all over the place."

"I am?" Sam vaguely touched his forehead. Blood was streaming down his face from a large gash just under his hairline. As he stared at the blood on his fingers, all color drained from his face. "No," he whispered. "It can't be."

Dean leaned forward to get a better look at his brother's face. "What are you talking about?"

Sam didn't answer. He just stared ahead with a horrified expression on his face.

"Sam! Come on, you're freaking me out here."

Sam lowered his shaking hand. "He… He did this to me, Dean. In my dream."

"In your _dream?_"

"Yes," Sam closed his eyes again. "He hit me. I could feel the blood dripping into my eye. And then he started shaking me, but I guess that was you."

Dean gently put his hand on Sam's shoulder. Blood was still streaming down his pale skin. He looked absolutely exhausted and more desperate than Dean had ever seen him before. He could understand why.

Sam couldn't stay awake forever. The dreams were inevitable. Lucifer would either kill Sam or drive him insane until he gave up. Either way they were screwed. Dean shivered involuntarily. If he had let Sam sleep a little longer…

"What do we do now?" whispered Sam.

Dean took a deep breath. "First we're gonna make sure you don't bleed all over the upholstery. And then we're gonna get to Bobby's as fast as we can. He's already getting everything together to summon Cas. We'll find a way, I promise."

"Dean, we've barely made it out of Nevada. It's gonna take us at least until tomorrow to get there."

Dean squeezed his shoulder. "We'll go on as long as we can. And if you fall asleep I'll make sure you wake up before it gets bad."

Sam looked up. He was shivering again, the blood dripping down into his neck. "Sorry I hit you."

"Not your fault, Sammy." Dean quickly put the car in gear and parked it on the side of the road. "Now let's get you fixed up." He gave Sam a long look. "We'll find a way, Sam. I promise."

* * *

_We'll find a way…_

Sam ran his hands over his face, careful to avoid the cut on his forehead. The dream was still vague, but he remembered Lucifer. His anger. The pain. It was going to be a long time before he could sleep again.

Lucifer was fighting harder. Pounding on his cage. If he stayed awake, he could keep it all in. If he just pretended not to hear what the Devil was whispering in his ears, kept concentrating on something else… But when he was asleep, Lucifer roamed freely through his mind. Taunting him. And hurting him apparently.

The sun had already set a few hours ago, and the roads were quiet. Dean had quickly turned down Sam's half-hearted offer to drive. He'd been behind the wheel for nearly eight hours straight.

Sam cleared his throat. "We can stop if you like."

"I'm not tired," muttered Dean. "I've had four months of nine to five, eight hours of sleep every night. I can handle it."

Sam looked at him. "Are you gonna tell Lisa that you're not coming back?"

Dean sighed. "I suppose I should. I just have to figure out what to tell her."

Sam snorted. "Hey Lisa, I found my dead brother, and I have to help him because he has a fallen angel stuck inside his head?"

Dean chuckled. "Subtle."

Sam looked down at his hands. "Do you love her?"

Dean looked at him from the corner of his eye. "You've read too many romance novels."

"I'm serious, Dean." Sam didn't look up. "If you don't want to…"

"I'm not sure," said Dean softly. "I mean, she's a wonderful person. She's funny, she's smart and she has done so much to help me. But you don't just settle down with someone, you know?"

Sam nodded faintly. "You should still call her."

"I will. Tomorrow." He glanced quickly in Sam's direction. "If you want to sleep, I'll keep an eye on you. I'll wake you up when it gets bad."

"Nah. I'm fine." Sam shifted in his seat, trying to get a little more comfortable. "I'll sleep when we've talked to Cas."

Dean smiled faintly. "I wonder what's it like in heaven with Cas in charge. I hope he hasn't imposed his fashion sense on everyone."

Sam took a deep breath. "What if he can't help me, Dean?"

"He's Cas, of course he can help. And even if he can't, we will find a way. Don't worry about it, Sam."

Despite his encouraging words, Sam couldn't help but notice that Dean didn't look all that confident. And he wasn't all that confident himself either. Secretly, he wondered whether Lucifer could survive without his vessel. Secretly, he kept one silver bullet in his pocket to try that out one day. But he wasn't going to tell Dean. Not until there was no other choice.

* * *

"You sure you did the ritual right?"

Bobby didn't bother answering. Dean chuckled softly. "Last time we did this, Cas made all the lights explode. Wonder what he has this time."

"If it's confetti, he's sweeping the floor himself."

Sam leaned back on Bobby's old sofa. He knew all the jokes were for his benefit. To mask their worry. To mask the fact that Cas still wasn't here. Two hours after the ritual, he still hadn't shown himself. And Cas was their only option.

Outside, the wind picked up. It howled around the old house, making it groan and creak around them.

"Finally," muttered Dean.

"If he starts blowing up my lamps, he's dead," muttered Bobby.

The wind slowly died away, leaving complete silence in its wake.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Don't say that, Bobby. I think you scared him of."

Soft rustling of wings outside, followed by a quiet knock on the door.

Dean jumped up from his chair and yanked the door open. "Since when do you knock, Cas?"

"I was under the impression that it was the polite thing to do," said the angel.

"Well, I prefer it to my lamps blowing up," said Bobby. "Good to see you again, Cas."

Cas just nodded at Bobby and turned to Sam. Sam shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. It seemed like the angel was looking right through him, reading his thoughts, exposing his mind for everyone to see. Sam shivered and fought the urge to stand up and run.

Then he realized that the desire wasn't his own. It was Lucifer, clawing at his barriers, fighting to get away.

"Sam," said Castiel, his voice calm. "You do not look well."

"That's exactly what we wanted to talk to you about," said Dean. "Sam…"

"I am happy you found him," said Cas. "I've been trying to for a long time."

"You were looking for me?" Sam stood up from the sofa. "Why?"

Castiel stepped past Dean. "I know what's going on, Sam. Because I was the one who brought you back."

"You… you brought me back?" whispered Sam.

"I did," said Castiel. "I couldn't leave you in there. It took me a while to find out how to do it. I am sorry I didn't get you sooner."

Sam closed his eyes. The horrible memories were always weighing on his mind. They crawled into his consciousness when he least expected it. No matter how badly he wanted to forget, he couldn't. It was etched in his mind forever. And without Cas he would still be in there.

"Thank you," whispered Sam. "I…"

"Do not thank me," said Castiel. "I tried to separate you from Lucifer, but I didn't quite succeed." He tilted his head in curiosity. "Why did you leave Dean's house? I was on my way to you, but when you left I couldn't find you."

"Never mind that, Cas," said Dean sharply. "Do you know a way to get rid of that assbutt?"

"Yes I do," said the angel. "But you are not going to like it."

* * *

And once again, it is past midnight here. Way past midnight… I'm of to bed, hope to hear from you!


	8. And you're standing on the brink

Thank you for all the reviews! And the cookies. They were awesome.

Seriously, I never expected so many people to read this! It's so much fun to post a chapter in the evening and to find my inbox full in the morning. This chapter is extra long, my treat to you!

Enjoy!

_Hold on_

_Cause it's closer than you think_

_**And you're standing on the brink**_

_Hold on_

_Cause there's something on the way_

_And tomorrow's not the same as today_

"What do you mean, we're not gonna like it? Can you do it or not?" said Dean sharply.

Castiel cleared his throat. "Do you remember when I was called back to heaven and my vessel stayed here on earth?"

"Can you do that?" said Sam. "Drag Lucifer to heaven with you?"

"I think I can," Castiel gave Sam a serious look. "Lucifer is weak. It's just a splinter of him that has stayed behind. If I take him to heaven, the angels can take care of him."

"What is there not to like about that plan?" said Dean suspiciously.

Castiel didn't take his eyes of Sam. "If you keep him locked away, I cannot touch him. You'll have to release him, Sam. It's the only way."

Sam angrily shook his head. "No. No way. If I let him go, he's gonna kill every single one of you."

"Nice plan, Cas," said Dean sarcastically.

"This is the only way," repeated Cas. "We don't have a choice. Anything else would kill Sam as well, and we can't do that."

"You're right,we can't," said Dean immediately. He looked at Sam. His brother was staring at the ground, looking like his world had come crashing down.

"Sam?" he asked softly.

"I can't do it," muttered Sam. "I can't let him go, it's too dangerous." He took a deep breath, his hands shaking again. "He's fighting me harder. If I let go, he will…" He looked up with a stubborn expression on his face. "I won't do it."

"Can't we lock Sam in a circle of holy fire?" said Bobby. "It'll be safer."

Cas shook his head. "I need to be able to touch him. If I go in the circle with him, I won't be able to take Lucifer away from Sam."

"No," Sam shook his head again. "I won't do it. There has to be another way."

"There isn't," said Castiel. "We have to do this, Sam."

Sam gave the angel a look that Dean knew all too well. It was a look that said _forget it_ and _shut the hell up_ and _if you keep going I'll kick your ass. _It was a look that sent many a demon running for the hills. But Castiel kept looking at him intently. "I am sorry," he said softly.

Sam turned away from him. "I need some air," he said hoarsely, and he walked out the door without looking at anyone. Dean looked uncomfortably at his brother's retreating back. He hated to think what this would do to his brother. But Cas was right, there really was no other choice.

* * *

Sam sat on the hood of the Impala and stared into space. The sun was setting, casting long shadows around the wrecked cars in Bobby's yard. It looked oddly peaceful, but his mind was in turmoil. He couldn't let Lucifer go. He just couldn't. The surge of hate he felt every time he looked at his own brother was enough proof of that. Lucifer would tear Dean to bits. No question about it. And Sam couldn't let that happen.

But he couldn't go on like this either. Lucifer was fighting too hard. He couldn't sleep, could barely think sometimes. The Devil would take over eventually, and when that happened it would all be over. It was an impossible choice.

"You know what you have to do, Sam."

Sam nearly slipped of the hood of the car when Castiel spoke beside him.

"Cas, do you have to do that?"

"There is no door here for me to knock on."

Sam almost laughed at the too-serious expression on the angel's face. Castiel sat down stiffly beside him. "I know this is hard, Sam. But…"

"Hard? It's impossible, Cas. I can't let him go." Sam shook his head. "Who knows what he'll make me do."

"He won't have time to do anything," said the angel. "I will make sure of that."

"I can't take that chance," muttered Sam. "He wants to go after Dean, I can feel it. I can't let that happen."

"Is that the reason you chose to leave when I took you to Dean?" asked the angel curiously.

"Part of it," said Sam. He looked up. "Cas, can I ask you a question? Why … why did you pull me out?"

The angel gave him a curious look. "You really don't know?"

Sam looked away, staring at the sun that was slowly sinking below the horizon. "It was a dangerous thing to do. You could have brought Lucifer back out. and you did. A part of him at least." He took a deep breath. "I made so many bad choices in my life, Cas. I've done terrible things. I…"

"You don't think you were worth the risk I took," said the angel. "Do you really think so badly of yourself?"

Sam didn't answer. He just stared ahead without really seeing anything.

"I pulled you out because you were willing to give your life to save the world. I saved you because you didn't deserve to suffer." Sam heard Castiel move beside him. "I saved you because you are my friend."

Sam turned his head so fast he could have sworn he heard his neck creak. "Do you mean that?"

"I have no reason to lie." Castiel looked at him with compassion in his eyes. "I want to help you, Sam. But there is only one way that I can."

"I know," muttered Sam. "But you'll have to promise me one thing." He looked straight into the angel's eyes. "If this goes south, if Lucifer gets out of control, kill him. No matter if that means killing me."

"Sam…"

"Promise me, Cas," said Sam sharply. "Lucifer has already done enough damage. We can't let him escape." He took a deep breath. "Do it so Dean doesn't have to."

* * *

"Are you ready, Sam?"

"No," whispered Sam. "But I don't have choice, do I?"

"It'll be okay, Sammy," said Dean softly.

The panic room was completely empty. Sam was sitting on the floor in the centre, with Castiel standing in front of him. The panic room was the safest place to be. No things to throw around, no weapons for Lucifer to find. Dean was standing a few paces away from his brother, while Bobby lingered by the door.

"He knows," whispered Sam. He could feel the pressure building in his head, until it felt ready to burst. "He knows what we want to do. He…" Sam gasped when a sharp pain shot through his head. "He's fighting… hard..." He closed his eyes.

"Bobby, close the door," said Castiel sharply.

"Sam, you can let go," said Dean softly. "It's gonna be okay."

Sam opened his eyes again and looked at Castiel. "Remember what you promised me."

"What?" said Dean sharply. "What do you mean?"

Sam didn't answer. He just looked at Castiel. The angel nodded hesitantly.

"Thank you," whispered Sam. He bowed his head. "Let's do this."

With a vague feeling of dread, he closed his eyes. It was harder than he had expected. After all those months of fighting, it was hard to give up. Like forcing himself to stop breathing.

"I'm disappointed in you, Sam," whispered Lucifer. "I thought you knew better than to underestimate me."

Sam could imagine his own face, staring coldly from the darkness of his mind, a smile on it's lips. "This ends, Lucifer," he whispered. "It ends now." And with a sigh, he threw down the barriers of his mind and let the Devil in.

* * *

Dean watched his brother nervously. There was no change in Sam. Nothing at all. He just sat there on the floor, trembling a little. Castiel stepped a little closer and placed his hand on Sam's head. He opened his mouth to start the Enochian ritual, but before he could say a word, Sam leapt to his feet and threw the angel to the other side of the metal room.

"Sam!" Dean had barely moved when an invisible force crushed him against the wall.

"Dean," said his brother's voice menacingly. But it wasn't Sam. There wasn't a trace of his brother left in the familiar face. "It's been too long," said Lucifer softly. "I think we still have some unfinished business to take care of."

* * *

"No!" Sam struggled to regain his hold on Lucifer, but there was nothing he could do. He could only watch as the Devil approached his brother. "No! Leave him alone."

"You knew what would happen, Sam," said Lucifer. "I told you exactly what I was going to do. I am sorry, but this is all because of your own stupidity."

"Don't touch him!" Sam swore and pounded on the barriers of his cage. Exactly the same one he had kept Lucifer in for so long. He saw his own hand clenched to a fist. Heard his own voice taunting his brother. Felt the surge of power through his veins when Lucifer tossed Bobby hard against the steel wall.

His own hands grabbed Dean's collar. A clenched fist flew towards his brother's face.

"NO!" Sam clawed at the force keeping him in place, and completely unexpectedly felt it give a little. His hand froze in the air and Lucifer made an impatient noise. "Sam, you are getting on my nerves, you know that?"

"You can't hurt him," shouted Sam. "You can't make me hurt him."

"Watch me."

* * *

Dean stared at his brother's face in a horrible Deja-vu. Castiel was nowhere in sight, Bobby was unconscious on the floor and Sam's face was sneering at him. Colder than ice.

"It's time we finished this, Dean," said The Devil.

"Then do it," said Dean coldly. "I'm getting tired of all your empty threats."

"Be careful what you wish for."

Lucifer raised Sam's fist. Dean closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable blow. But it never came. Lucifer held him against the wall in a crushing grip, but his fist remained frozen in the air.

The cool expression in Sam's eyes was replaced by a wild fury. Dean looked at him in astonishment. Somehow, somewhere, his little brother was still fighting. And he was pissed as hell.

* * *

"Let it go, Sam."

"No."

"You can't keep this up forever."

"As long as I have to."

"You're destroying yourself and you know it."

"I don't care."

"Do you really care that much about him? About the brother that called you a monster? About the man who pushed you around all your damn life?"

"Yes, I do"

"One day, you will break and I will find him again."

"Don't count on it."

"He will die Sam, one way or the other."

"Yes, and it will be of old age in a bed. You are not touching him, you son of a bitch."

"I get tired of you calling me names."

"Well, get used to it. I'm here to stay."

"Actually, I don't think you are."

"Well, it's _my_ head. I think I'll stick around."

"In that case, maybe I will deal with you first. I was looking forward to the satisfaction of making you watch while I killed your brother and all the others. But you leave me no choice."

* * *

Dean tried to pull away from Lucifer's iron grip, but it was no use. From the corner of his eye, he saw Castiel slowly approaching. He had to bite his lips to keep himself from shouting at the angel to hurry the hell up. This was taking too long.

Castiel moved his right hand, and suddenly there was a silver sword in his hand. A sword that Dean knew all too well.

"Cas no!" Dean struggled with all his strength, but the iron hand holding him against the wall didn't budge.

Castiel took a long step forward and raised the silver blade. Dean swore loudly. "Cas, don't do it, you…"

Suddenly, Lucifer stepped away. "I will see you soon, Dean," he said softly. And in a flutter of wings, he was gone.

* * *

Apologies once again…

By the way, is it just me or is the stats page screwed up?


	9. A face you have known

Once again, thank you for all the sweet words!

I've got a bit of bad news though, there will be no update tomorrow… I've got a twelve hour workday ahead of me. And no computer in sight, the whole day.

Sorry!

* * *

_Don't you recall what you felt_

_When you weren't alone?_

_Someone who stood by your side_

_**A face you have known.**_

_Where do you run when it'__s too much to bear?_

_Who do you turn to in need, _

_When nobody's there?_

"Sam? Are you listening to me?"

"No."

"You might want to pay attention."

"Why? So you can monologue a little more?"

"I want you to hear what I have to say."

"Well, I think I have heard enough."

"I'm about to crush you until you shatter into a thousand pieces. You might want to keep that smart mouth shut."

"I do, you'll kill me. I don't, you'll kill me and I won't even have the satisfaction of pissing you off."

"I never understood why humans find it amusing to make someone angry."

"That's because you are a self-righteous dick."

"You aren't listening to me."

"No I'm not, Captain Obvious."

Sam smiled to himself when he felt the devil's annoyance. It felt good to do something. Even if it was only being a smart-ass. Even if it was only to keep Lucifer busy so Cas could make good on his promise.

"I heard that."

"I don't care. They are gonna find you, and they are gonna make you pay."

"Maybe they will, maybe they won't. But they will be too late to save you."

* * *

"What the hell, Cas?" Dean grabbed the angel by the neck of his trench coat. "You were gonna kill him!"

"Sam made me promise," said Castiel quietly. "He asked me to kill him if Lucifer got out of control."

"He did _what?_ And you promised him?"

Castiel looked at Dean with pity in his eyes. "He wanted to spare you the pain of having to do it yourself."

Dean abruptly released him and swore loudly. "We need to find him. I could see it, he was still fighting. He wouldn't let Lucifer touch me."

"I will find him," said Castiel.

"How are you gonna do that?" said Bobby. "He's still hidden from you."

"No, he's not," said the angel. "I removed the sigils from his ribs before we came to the panic room. Just in case something like this would happen."

"You did? Then what the hell are we still doing here?" Dean nearly ran towards the door.

"Dean, wait!" said Bobby. "We can't just run in there and make the same mistake all over again. We need a plan."

"Then we'd better hurry the hell up, because I'm gonna kick the Devil's ass for messing with my brother." Dean turned to Castiel again. "Give me the sword."

"Why?"

"I said, give me the sword. You are not gonna kill Sam."

"But…"

Dean shook his head. "We can't kill him. Only if there is no other choice, and I'll be the judge of that."

"You'll never do it," muttered Bobby. "Even if it means killing the Devil, you won't do it. You can't."

Dean gave him a long look. "I won't have to. I've got a plan."

* * *

"You really need to stop challenging me."

"Why? I've got nothing else to do."

"This is exactly what I am talking about. Your attitude is only going to make things worse for you."

"Worse? How can things possibly get worse than this?"

Sam could feel Lucifer's amusement. A familiar silhouette appeared from the shadows of his mind. His own face smirked back at him, the expression utterly unlike anything he had ever seen in the mirror. "I tried to be nice to you, Sam. I would have given you anything. But you just had to keep fighting me. You threw me back into the pit where I had been rotting for centuries. And now you are taunting me. I am disappointed in you, Sam. I though you were smarter than that."

"Once again, what do I have to lose? You have already taken everything from me!" Sam was dangerously close to losing his self-control. He knew very well that his anger would only give Lucifer strength, but it was nearly impossible to keep his emotions under control.

"I didn't take anything from you," said Lucifer. "Azazel and his minions…"

"They planned the whole thing to make me break the final seal. You caused everything!" Sam pounded his fist on the wall of his cage. "So stop telling me that you had nothing to with it. You keep telling me you won't hurt me, but you destroyed my life!"

"So that is how you feel about me?" Lucifer slowly circled the cage. "Do you really think I enjoyed sending Azazel on his way? I knew what he was going to do. But I didn't have any other choice."

Sam snorted. "You could have stayed in there."

"Do you mean that?" whispered Lucifer. "You know what it's like down there. You've seen it. Eternal torment. And you sent me back there."

"Somehow I really don't feel sorry for you." Sam gave Lucifer a cold look. "I was willing to give my own life to lock you in there. That has to give you a idea how much I hate you."

"I used to like you, Sam," said the Devil. "But after what you did? Let's just say my Father taught me the meaning of the word wrath."

Suddenly, the barrier gave way. Sam stumbled forward into the darkness in that little past of his mind where Lucifer kept him locked away.

"Most of me stayed behind there, Sam," said Lucifer. "So now we are quite evenly matched I believe." He stepped forward. "Fight me, Sam. You win, you can take me to Castiel and I won't be able to do anything about it. I win…" he smiled cruelly. "Let's just say your brother won't be walking the earth much longer."

"If you hurt him…"

"The only way to stop me is by fighting me." Sam saw his own face distort in an angry grimace. He saw his own fists clenching. Instinctively, he knew this wasn't real. It was an image his mind conjured up to make it all understandable. There was a limit to what the human brain could process. But Sam also knew that the fact that it wasn't real didn't mean it wouldn't hurt.

"Do you know why I can't let you hurt Dean?" he said softly.

"No, I don't. I honestly don't," said Lucifer coolly.

"Funny. I thought you of all creatures would understand." Sam raised his fists. "Nobody dicks with my brother but me."

* * *

"Are you sure?" Dean was pacing the room nervously. "Why would he go there?"

"I am sure," said Castiel. "He's there, no question about it."

"Are you sure about that insane plan of yours?" said Bobby sharply. "It's suicide! Sam wouldn't…"

"Sam wouldn't be out there if we hadn't screwed up!" yelled Dean. "We did this like a bunch of rookies. If you have a better idea, shoot. Until then, we go with my plan."

"Keep your pants on, boy. I didn't say I wasn't coming with you."

Dean picked up the heavy shotgun that he knew was gonna be useless and nodded to Cas. "Ready when you are."

Castiel gave him an intense look. "Before we go, I want you to know why I made my promise to Sam."

"Fine, but hurry the hell up. There is no time for this touchy feely crap."

The angel narrowed his eyes. "I believe that being trapped in his own head is a fate worse than hell for Sam. He would rather die than watch his own hands murder you. I wanted to give him peace of mind. Give him the feeling he has some control over all this."

Dean gave him a sharp look. "It won't come that far." He took a deep breath. "I made my brother a promise too, a long time ago. I broke it many times, but today I'm going to keep it."

He clutched his shotgun tightly. "Now just take me to that godforsaken place."

And with one touch, Castiel took him back to a place he had never wanted to see again. The place where it had all ended and began anew.

Stull cemetery.

* * *

See you on Friday!


	10. A requiem was never sung

Hi again! Sorry I didn't reply to all the reviews. Everything got a little mixed up and now I don't know which ones I did answer and which ones I didn't. Once again, thank you all for the sweet words! This chapter was hard, I hope you like it.

Enjoy!

_It's empty now, no friendly face and nothing lives within_

_I look around and I find no trace to tell me what has been_

_So far I've come to find there's no one here, no life and fear_

_I came for nothing, they have gone_

_And Nobody's Home_

_**A requiem was never sung **_

_No elegy was read _

_No monument was carved in stone in memory of the dead_

Dean shivered as he drove through the gates of Stull Cemetery. This was a place that he hated with his entire being. This was the place he found his brother again and lost him at the same time. It was almost disturbing to see how overgrown it was. This was the place where Sam had given his life to save the world. It was a place that deserved a memorial. This was the place where the grave of a hero was supposed to be, apart from the fact that he wasn't actually dead right now. It wasn't supposed to look like this.

But then again, nobody had ever given Sam any praise over what he had done. Most hunters still had it out for him. It was common knowledge that Sam had popped Lucifer's cage, but nobody knew what he had done to make it right. Nobody had mourned him, except for two men and one angel.

Dean gritted his teeth. The months without his brother had been hell. He was _not _going to lose him again. And Sam was here, he knew it. Now he just had to find him.

The old cemetery was completely quiet. No birds, no crickets. Nothing. It was as if the world was holding it's breath, treating this place with the honour that people didn't seem to give it. Dean slowly made his way around the old headstones. It was nothing like his thundering entrance all those months ago. This time he had no intention of throwing himself to the lions.

Last time he hadn't expected to come out alive. This time, wasn't going in to die with his brother. He was going in to drag his brother out. There was no other way. Cautiously, he moved to the centre of the old graveyard, where the whole catastrophe had taken place. That was where Sam and Lucifer had gone, Castiel had been certain. The angel had dropped him of near the gates and he had gone in alone. Reckless as it seemed, Dean knew he was probably the only person who could approach Lucifer safely.

Because Sam wouldn't let the Devil hurt him. Sam was fighting hard, he knew it. He had seen the pure and naked rage replace Lucifer's cold emptiness in Sam's eyes. Only his little brother could be that pissed. And if he was doing this again, he wasn't going to do it alone. He could only hope that Sam would stop Lucifer from bashing his face in.

* * *

"Are you ready, Sam?"

"As I'll ever be."

Lucifer slowly circled his prey. Because the was how Sam felt right now. Like a hunted animal.

"You know I don't want to fight you. I…"

"But I do."

Without warning, Sam leapt forward and punched the Devil hard in his face. It was a strange sensation, breaking his own nose, but it gave him an immense feeling of satisfaction.

Lucifer straightened up with an angry growl. "Bad move, Sam. Bad move."

And with one swipe of his hand, he threw Sam backwards. Sam hit the ground hard and he tasted blood. Swearing loudly, he struggled to get back on his feet. How was there even a floor for him to hit? He was stuck in his own head for crying out loud!

"You're still overconfident, Sam. That is a lesson you will have to learn." Lucifer's voice was colder than ice. "When I said we were evenly matched, I didn't say I would fight fair."

And before he had managed to stand up properly, he was slammed down again. Lucifer had barely moved. He just stood there, smiling.

"You lost this battle when you let me loose, Sam. You aren't strong enough to reign me back in. I call the shots. No get up and fight."

With an angry roar, Sam leapt to his feet and charged. With all the strength he possessed, he pounded his fists into the familiar face. The face he had learned to hate in the past months. A face that was his own, but not quite. A face that he couldn't look at in the mirror anymore until that dangerous spark had disappeared from the eyes.

He felt bones breaking under his hands and smirked in satisfaction. Lucifer staggered back and hit a wall in the darkness behind him. Before Sam had even seen him move, he was on the floor again, spitting blood and wiping it from his nose.

"You are stubborn, Sam," whispered Lucifer. "It's time I taught you a lesson in humility."

* * *

Dean stayed low as he approached the still figure that was leaning against an old headstone. He was as careful and silent as he possibly could, but he knew that it really wasn't all that necessary. If Lucifer hadn't heard him yet, the Devil wasn't home. With slow and deliberate steps, he walked around the headstone. It was Sam alright. He was leaning back against the headstone, his breathing rapid and his eyes half open.  
Dean wanted nothing more than to run over to him and figure out what the hell was wrong with his little brother, but he had to take some precautions first. With careful movements, he traced a circle of holy oil around the headstone, a little bigger than he usually did. He carefully stepped inside it before taking his lighter from his pocket and lighting up the oil.

With an angry noise, the flames rose up around him. He felt the heat scorching his face. The flames reflected in Sam's unseeing eyes and threw flickering shadows on his face. Dean grabbed his shoulder. "Sam! You with me?"

Sam didn't react. He didn't move at all. His eyes were empty and hollow. He looked like he was dead, if not for the fast rise and fall of his chest.  
Cursing loudly, Dean pulled out his phone. He dialed Bobby's number, his fingers still resting on Sam's shoulder.

"It's done," he said quickly when Bobby picked up. "But something's not right. Get here quick."

He hung up before Bobby had been able to get a word in. Immediately, he turned his attention back to Sam.

"Sam? Sammy? Can you hear me?"

And for a second, no, a fraction of a second, he though he could see something stir in Sam's lifeless eyes.

* * *

Sam tried to push himself up, but Lucifer kicked him down again. He groaned and rolled onto his back, staring at the black void that was his own mind. He had been kicked, battered and broken in more ways than he had though possible. And every time, he just got back up and tried again. But it was no use. He was weak, powerless. It was no use fighting anymore.

"Not such a smart mouth now, right Sam?" Lucifer chuckled near his ear. "I'm going to crush you like that pathetic little fly you are. I've tried to spare you, I really did. But now it's over. I'm done being nice. It ends here, Sam."

Sam didn't even try to fight it anymore. It was all over. He tiredly closed his eyes. "I'm sorry Dean," he whispered softly.

_Sam?_

Sam's eyes snapped open at the sound of his brother's voice. But there was nobody there besides Lucifer.

_Sammy?_

Lucifer tilted his head, listening intently. "That brother of yours really is stupid, isn't he?"

"Shut up," said Sam quietly, not bothering to disguise the hatred in his voice.

_Can you hear me?_

Sam closed his eyes again.

"Are you ready to call it quits?"

Sam didn't answer. He heard Dean's voice. Not for real this time, but from the shadows around him.

_Sammy? It's okay, I'm here. I'm not going to leave you._

_I'm not going to leave you._

_I'm here__._

Sam opened his eyes. "No," he said firmly. In one fluent motion, he was on his feet. "Because this is my head. I call the shots. And if you want to hurt my brother, you'll have to got through me, you son of a bitch."


	11. in a wind of change

A little later than usual unfortunately. I managed to tear a ligament in my back by doing nothing more than looking over my shoulder… typing isn't exactly a fun experience right now.

The song is 'peaceful and warm' by Kansas. In the last chapter I used "Nobody's home', also by Kansas obviously.

Enjoy!

* * *

_On the Kansas banks of the Muddy Mo'_

_I threw rocks in the river and dreamed of running away_

_**In a wind of change**__ only a father knows_

_In a world so hectic so cold_

"That is blasphemy, you know," said Lucifer coolly. "That's my father you are talking about."

"He hasn't exactly done me any favors, so I'll call him whatever I damn well like."

Lucifer smirked at him. "Well, that is something we agree on."

Sam smiled. "I'm going to make you an offer. Give up now, and let Castiel take you to heaven, or I will tear you to pieces with my bare hands. It's up to you."

Lucifer smiled in amusement. "You and what army?"

Sam looked at him coldly. "There is one thing you haven't thought of. Hell, I didn't think of it until a minute ago. You see, this isn't your playground. We are in _my_ head." He smiled. "My mind, my rules."

He closed his eyes, still smiling. Now that he had it figured out, it was easy. In this place, he could do anything. It was like dream-walking, without being asleep. A rush of power, without the demon blood. In this place, he was the one in control. In this place, he was God.

The darkness rippled and warped around him. And for the first time since he had been sprung from his cage well over a year ago, the Devil seemed scared.

"What are you doing?" he asked accusingly.

"Something I should have done a long time ago." Sam opened his eyes again. "Taking control. I am done with you and your games. I am done with everyone and everything pushing me around. This is my life. My mind. There is no place here for you."

* * *

"Sam?"

There was still no answer. Sam was completely slack against the headstone, the flickering fire dancing over his face. His eyes reflected the light, empty and soulless. He was still alive, but Sam wasn't home. Neither was Lucifer for that matter. There was just emptiness in those eyes. Nothing else.

Dean gently nudged Sam's shoulder. "Sam, you in there?"

Sam twitched a little under his hand. "No... my head… I call the shots," the words were barely loud enough to be heard. His face twisted in pain and anger.

Dean grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little. "Sam! Come on, dude."

And the next words Sam spoke were clear as day.

"And if you want to hurt my brother, you'll have to go through me, you son of a bitch."  
Dean smiled faintly. "You tell him Sam."

* * *

Lucifer smiled. "You know that isn't true. You can say it a million times, but that doesn't change anything. There is a darkness in you, Sam. You know that better than anyone."

"I will ask you one last time," Sam said firmly. "Will you let Castiel take you to heaven?"

"No," said Lucifer immediately. "If I go there there, it will be worse than hell."

"Then you leave me no other choice."

With a blink of his eyes, Sam flipped the switch. All the anger, all the fury, all the _wrath_ he had inside him blew out of the darkness. In an enormous flash of light, the void was ripped apart and for a second Sam and Lucifer stared at each other in the brightness.

Then Sam saw his own face twist in fear and horror, before the light exploded and wiped out everything in it's wake. His head was filled with it. Then it all went dark.

* * *

Dean barely blinked when Bobby and Castiel appeared out of nowhere outside the circle of holy fire.

"Dean, is he okay?" asked Bobby quickly.

"I don't know. Stay outside the circle." Dean barely took his eyes of his brother while he spoke.

"Something is happening," said Castiel softly.

"You think, Cas? Tell me something I don't know."

Sam still wasn't moving. His eyes were shifting restlessly from side to side without really seeing anything and he was still mumbling under his breath. The words were too jumbled up to understand, but Dean knew what they meant. Sam was fighting. Fighting hard. Dean was almost afraid to touch him.

Castiel stared at Sam through the wall of holy fire. "Lucifer is still in there, but so is Sam. They are…"

He stopped when Sam suddenly jerked away from his brother's hands. Dean immediately turned all his attention back to his brother. "Sam?"

Sam twisted away from him, dangerously close to the ring of holy fire. Dean grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away from the flames, but Sam was struggling so hard he could barely keep him under control. Sam's eyes snapped open and for a second they were filled with wild, blind rage.

Dean nearly let go, because all of a sudden he didn't see his little brother anymore. All he could see was the fury etched into Sam's face. The pure anger and hate that he knew Sam had, but that he had never seen before. Sure, he had seen Sam angry. Pissed as hell. He had seen Sam wild on Demon blood, killing demons with no more than a blink of his eyes. But this? This was something else. And it was plain terrifying.

But he didn't let go.

Because he knew that all that fury was only directed at one thing. Lucifer.

So he held on.

As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Sam sagged limply against him, blood streaming from his nose.

"Sammy?"

Sam blinked a few times, looking dazed. All the anger had vanished from his face, and now he just looked tired. Worn out and weary to the bone. With obvious effort, he managed to focus on his brother's face. "Dean?"

"Right here, Sam. Is it you in there?"

Bobby looked ready to jump into the flaming circle, but Dean stopped him with a gesture of his hand. There was no guaranty that this was really Sam. Lucifer had already proved that he was a scarily good puppeteer.

Sam looked a little confused at his question. His eyes wondered away from Dean's face, looking at the flames around them and the tombstones beyond.

"I know this place," he muttered. "Why are we here?"

"Lucifer rode your ass, he took you back here," Dean helped his brother sit back against the headstone. "You don't remember?"

Sam wiped the blood from his nose. "No… not really. It's…" he closed his eyes and rubbed his hands over his face. "It's all a blur."

"Dean," said Castiel softly.

Dean looked up at him. "Please tell me you have a better plan to get rid of that angelic asshole. We are not doing this again, you hear me?"

"Dean, I…"

"I can't let it happen again. I won't let Sam do it again, do you understand me?"

Castiel raised his hands in surrender. "Dean, I don't think Lucifer is here anymore."

Dean barely had time to think about what he had said when Sam sagged against him with a pained groan.

"Whoa, Sam. You still with me?"

"I fought him," muttered Sam. "He… he isn't…"

Bobby leapt across the flames and knelt beside the two brothers. "Dean, we need to get him to my place. He doesn't look to good."

"You think?" Dean put an arm around his brother's shoulder and pulled him a little closer. "Can you put out that fire so Cas can get his ass over here?"

Dean didn't even look as Bobby stood up and crossed the flames again. He didn't take his eyes of his brother. He had no idea what had happened, but he did know that he would never leave his brother alone again. Not if he had anything to say about it.

"I made you a promise once," he whispered. "I told you that nothing bad would ever happen as long as I was around. I didn't exactly make good on that, didn't I?" He smiled sadly. "But I know that when I'm not there, you get yourself in some serious shit. Every single time. So you'll just have to put up with me. Alright, little brother?"  
Sam didn't answer. He just leaned against Dean's shoulder, smiling faintly.

* * *

I hope to have the last chapter up in a few days, but no guaranties unfortunately.


	12. There is no loss

**Last chapter! The response to this story has been overwhelming, thank you so much! As soon as my back clears up a little I'm starting on a sequel to 'And the tide rushes in'. I've also got a few oneshots floating around in my head that I will probably write in the coming weeks. **

**Keep reading and talk to you soon.**

**Enjoy!**

_And though it's always been with me_

_I must tear down the wall and let it be_

_All I am _

_And all that I was ever meant to be_

_In harmony_

_Shining through and smiling back at all who wait to cross_

_**There is no loss**_

"So, how'd you do it?"

Sam leaned back on Bobby's old sofa. "I don't really know," he said tiredly. "I don't remember much of it."

Dean handed him a glass of water and two pills. Sam didn't even bother looking what they were before swallowing them.

"When… when we found you, you were muttering something."

"I was?" Sam felt his stomach clench. For all he knew he could have said horrible things to his brother. He didn't exactly have a great track record. The encounter with the siren proved that he could really hurt Dean when he started spewing. Hell, it had happened plenty of times. Doctor Ellicot, Meg, Lucifer…

Dean smiled faintly. "Don't look so worried. You said something about calling the shots in your own head. Does that mean anything to you?"

Sam shook his head. "No, but it makes sense. If Lucifer was fighting me inside my own head…" He made a vague gesture with his hand. "Maybe I was able to take control in there somehow."

"That sounds vaguely schizophrenic, but it makes sense." Dean sat down on the sofa beside him. "You really don't remember anything?"

Sam closed his eyes. "Just flashes. Lucifer… He…" Sam shivered. His own faces drifted in his memories. Distorted and deformed by something that was definitely not human.

Dean put a hand on his shoulder. "Easy Sam. It's alright, don't push yourself."

"I remember hitting you," whispered Sam. "Lucifer wanted to kill you."

"And you stopped him," said his brother softly. "For which I owe you a beer, by the way."

Sam looked up in surprise. "How do you know that?"

"I saw it," said Dean. "Your eyes changed."

Sam looked down at his hands. "I couldn't let him do it. I felt it…" he swallowed. "He made me watch, that day in Stull cemetery. He made me feel it when he… I couldn't do it again."

He felt Dean shift beside him. "Is that why you made Cas promise to kill you if Lucifer got out of control?"

Sam nodded, his still looking anywhere but at his brother's face. "He should have done it," he muttered.

"Alright, that's it." Dean suddenly stood up from the sofa. "Why do you keep saying that? Do you have a death wish?"

"No, it's just…"

"You of all people should know what it feels like to lose a brother. Do you think I'd want to feel like that again?"

Sam looked up in surprise. "Dean, I…"

Dean was staring at him with an unreadable expression in his eyes. "You didn't think about it like that? Well, think again. I'm not gonna let you die. Not for any reason. Got that?"

Sam squeezed his eyes shut to hide his tears. This is what he had missed so badly. All those days, months, years in the pit. The months hunting alone with Lucifer whispering from the back of his mind. _I'm not gonna let you die…_

"You don't know what it's like," he whispered. "Being forced to do horrible things and nothing you can do will make it _stop_. Feeling evil running through your veins. It's…" he took a shaky breath. "It's worse than being… down there. It's…"

"But it's never happening again." Dean's voice was suddenly much softer. Sam could feel a hand on his knee, but he didn't open his eyes. "The Devil is gone, Sam. You got rid of him. It's over."

"It's not," whispered Sam. "The blood… It's still inside me, Dean. I can feel it sometimes. I can't…"

"I don't care, Sam. You wrestled with Lucifer inside your own head. You can deal with it, I know you can." The warm hand softly squeezed his knee. "I trust you, Sam. Now all you have to do is trust yourself."

* * *

Dean was kneeling in front of his brother, watching him intently. Sam's eyes were closed, tears clinging to his lashes. He looked palter than a corpse and tired to the bone. And above all, he looked completely lost and miserable. And Dean knew there was nothing he could say that could make things go away.

From the day Mary Winchester had made her deal with the yellow eyed demon, Sam's fate had been determined. All his life, he had been pushed towards the dark side. No matter how hard he fought, all his life he had kept sliding down that slope faster than he could run uphill. There were no words to take that all away. But maybe he could make it a little easier on his little brother.

"Do you remember when you told me that you were the least of any of us?" he said softly.

Sam's nod was nearly imperceptible. He didn't open his eyes.

"I never knew that was how you thought of yourself. And it's not true, you know." He cleared his throat, leaning forward a little to study Sam's face. "But it's not up to me to tell you that. It's no use saying it if you don't believe me. You have to see it for yourself."

Sam still didn't say anything. He was a shaking a little his hands clenching and unclenching restlessly. Dean once again took his place next to him on the sofa, their shoulders brushing slightly. "And if you ever think about checking out again, I'm gonna kick your ass myself. You got that?"

Sam chuckled weakly. "Got it."

"Good." Dean softly squeezed his shoulder and stood up. "Bobby should have that guest room ready by now. How does a good night sleep sound?"

Sam rubbed his hands over his face. "Better than heaven."

Dean chuckled softly. "Pretty much everything is better than heaven. Come on, let's get you up."

He grabbed his brother's arm and helped him stand up. Sam swayed on his feet, practically too exhausted to stand. Dean put an arm around his shoulder and led him towards the door. Sam was not alright. Not by far. But they would get there in the end.

Together.

* * *

**Just to be complete, the songs I used are all from Kansas. They are: 'The wall', , 'Hold on', 'Nobody's home' and 'Peaceful and warm'. Inspiration for writing this was of course the finale, and the notion of Sam talking to a priest after his encounter with Lucifer.**

**Thank you again for all the reviews (and the cookies) and you will hear from me soon!**


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